


Bathed in Moonlight

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [12]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Domesticity, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 17:52:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6668458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been years since they had met, been years since they'd broken up; it had only been months since they had rekindled the relationship but Hawke thought that he was perhaps the happiest that he had ever been since he left Lothering. It wasn't easy. It wasn't simple. But there was still something easy and simple in the way that Fenris was confident enough to hold his hand on the outskirts of town now, something that made Hawke's heart glow in the half-light of evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bathed in Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> I needed happy FenHawke, okay? And, assuming Fenris was actually a tiny bit tipsy in that scene where he speaks about his past (if I recall correctly, one of the non-flirting options is to say he was drunk, but of course I'm always flirting with him so!), Fen is so much softer when he's been drinking a bit and I just. /clenches fist/ wanted them giggling and doing normal couple things. (no i don't buy into the fanon fenris is an alcoholic just to clarify)
> 
> I do not own _Dragon Age II_. Thanks for reading!

"I cannot get over how handsome this big guy is," Hawke remarked, staring up at the great statue residing on the Docks.

"You're drunk," Fenris said, grabbing onto Hawke's arm.

"I am _not_. I am just constantly amazed by my own beauty."

Fenris gave one of those half smiles, nodding towards the stairs. "Shall we?"

"Yes." Hawke reached down, snatching Fenris's hand from his arm to hold it. "Okay?"

"It's fine."

It had been years since they had met, been years since they'd broken up; it had only been months since they had rekindled the relationship but Hawke thought that he was perhaps the happiest that he had ever been since he left Lothering. It wasn't easy. It wasn't simple. But there was still something easy and simple in the way that Fenris was confident enough to hold his hand on the outskirts of town now, something that made Hawke's heart glow in the half-light of evening.

The alcohol helped, too. He _wasn't_ drunk. He knew exactly what he was doing. Maybe Wicked Grace had gone long, and the tankards of mead may have been flowing more than usual, but Hawke was not drunk. Just tipsy. Just enough tipsy that the sunlight stretching into evening was one of the most beautiful things that he had seen in _ages_ , that Kirkwall wasn't as bad as everyone said. Like the Maker was smiling upon them, and Hawke could smile right back. It was _good_.

"Maker, I love you."

Now Fenris graced him with a soft laugh, something reserved solely for Hawke's ears, in response to Hawke's jokes, Hawke's touch. "You are drunk," Fenris repeated, not without fondness.

"I'm not!" Hawke protested. "I'm just... really happy. Can't we be really happy without having to be drunk?"

Fenris only hummed in response, leading the way up the stairs. Hawke smiled softly, resisting the urge to snake his arm around Fenris's waist to pull him closer. Private moments meant only for their eyes. Hand holding was one thing, and Hawke was grateful for that. Fenris's hand was warm between his fingers, familiar like the feel of his magic beneath his fingertips, and special in a way that made him grin like a fool.

_Love_. He was so in love.

He would say it again, but Fenris had already chastised him once. Hawke grinned and held on tighter to Fenris's fingers.

They meandered the city until the evening had turned dark, the sky darkening into indigos and purples and the softest blacks as the pinpricks of stars began to shine. Hawke gazed at them for a moment and then lowered his gaze back to Fenris. It didn't matter how many times he looked at him, his heart continued to swell each and every time.

"Your hair is like the moonlight."

Fenris looked startled at Hawke's sudden declaration, and in that moment, Hawke realized how _pathetic_ \- " _Maker_ , that was _horrible_ ," he groaned, putting his face in his hands. "I was looking at the sky, the moonlight's kind of silver and white and it reminded me of your hair." He waved towards him wildly.

Fenris's fingers crawled to Hawke's wrist, tugging his hands away. "Your poetry leaves much to be desired, although I suppose you deserve points for effort."

Hawke laughed, a little too loudly in the stairwell of the calming Viscount's Way. "At least I get some points."

"At least you didn't say I looked like an angel," Fenris said.

Hawke grinned a lopsided smile, tilting his head. He did not say out loud that he had been thinking it earlier. He suspected, very much, that Fenris _knew_ he had been, from the soft smile that the elf gave him.

The soft smile turned into a soft touch, dextrous fingers against the inside of Hawke's wrist, his arm, tracing idle patterns against his veins. He seemed to contemplate for a moment, and then surprised Hawke by leaning over and kissing him softly.

Hawke made a soft noise, pleased, and kissed him back without a pause. Fenris could be dominant, make no mistake, but it was a rare treat when they weren't tucked away in his estate or Fenris's mansion.

Fenris's hand came to rest on Hawke's chest, curling into the fabric loosely, and the elf leaned closer, into Hawke's personal space, all eyes like jewels and hair like moonlight and _Maker_ , he smelled wonderful.

When they broke apart for air, Hawke was well and truly short on breath. Chest heaving, certain his face was about to split apart from the sheer _joy_ , and Fenris had this tiny little smile on his face as well. "You're drunk, too," he accused, daring to reach out and not put his arm around him, but press his fingers against his back, trailing fingertips against his spine, tugging into the fabric of his tunic.

"No more drunk than you," Fenris replied, reaching over to take Hawke's chin between his fingers. "We're just happy. Isn't that right?"

_Oh._ He loved him. He loved him... _so much_. "Yes," he breathed, and leaned over to to meet Fenris halfway for the kiss.

Happiness was a nice thing with them. They might not get much of it, but that made moments like these all the more sweeter when they did happen.

"I love you, my sun and moon and brilliant stars."

Fenris snorted in laughter, lips still brushing against the Champion's. " _Hawke_ ," he laughed, pulling away to curl up against Hawke's chest. "Enough of this... _poetry_."

Hawke wrapped his arms around him, feeling a little goofy but "I'm sticking with my poetry", he uttered, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Fenris chuckled again, mostly a rumble in his chest now as he settled into Hawke's arms. "To each his own."

"Indeed."

They fell silent, the sounds of Hightown's night-life breaking the monotony of a night stretching ever towards morning. Hawke watched the stars and the moon and he watched as Fenris watched them, too. And he felt his heart beat in his chest, and the flutter of Fenris's pulse beneath his fingers, and he felt when Fenris started to drift off into sleep. And then he gathered him into his arms and then he carried him back to his estate, and if anybody had anything to say when they both came out in the morning together, with slight bedhead and a miniscule hangover, and how their hands lingered just a bit too close to each other's when they walked, knuckles brushing when they passed, well?

Nobody said a word; they just smiled amongst themselves instead.

 


End file.
